Death Has a Horrible Sense of Humor
by ericwinter
Summary: Really, I should have seen it coming. Death Eater recruit, Planned assassin of the greatest Light wizard since Merlin himself, and all around prat. Of course I was going to be sentenced to execution. My only problem? Why the bloody hell did they have to push me into that damned curtain? And why am I a bloody girl? Disclaimer: I own nothing
1. Death Has a Horrible Sense of Humor

If there's one thing I've learned from this whole mess, it's that Death has a terrible sense of humor.

See, it started right after the second wizarding war. i , Draco Malfoy, had fought on the wrong side, and as expected, paid the price. There was a trial, of course, but I was under no illusions as to whether I would be found guilty or not. I was marked, had been present at the battle of Hogwarts, and even if that wasn't enough to seal my fate, it was common knowledge that despite Severus Snape being the one to kill Dumbledore, who most revered as some kind of wizarding god, it had originally been my mission.

Now, the outcome I expected, as I've said. What I hadn't expected, was for Potter to fight the decisiion to execute me. Yeah, bloody Boy-Who-Lived-Twice Potter, slayer of the Dark Lord and hero of the war. It shocked me to the core when he cried out during the trial, begging the wizengamot to spare my life, his friend Granger beside him. Together, they presented all the evidence that my family had been forced into our roles, even going so far as to claim Dumbledore himself had been convinced that I could be saved. I'd almost forgotten that Potter was there that night, hidden under his little invisibility cloak as I tried to convince myself to cast the killing curse. It was a valiant effort, but in the end, not even their new hero could convince the public that I was anything more than a death eater and Slytherin scum.

I wish I could at least say I had a dignified end, but lying has never really been my strong suit anyways. I think it's why I was a really bad Slytherin, since i thought that was all there was to cunning. Either way, all that really happened was that I was dragged out of my ministry cell where they were holding me since Azkaban was still being secured, and taken to the Chamber of Death. Apparently, they couldn't even sully their wands even just by using a cutting curse to sever my neck from my head. No, they were too _humane_ for that.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, there was no ceremony, no reading of charges, not even taunting. The auror whose face I couldn't even see in the shadows of the room simply pushed me to a kneel before the veil, shimmering with darkness, and planted his foot in the small of my back, knocking me forward to be embraced by the soft and ghostly fabric.

Now, it probably seems strange to start a story with the protagonist dying, right? Or at least, it would if I were the protagonist. But I wasn't. As I floated into the darkness, the tiny portal of light back to the living world slowly growing smaller behind, that fact washed over me with all the force of a raging typhoon. I had done nothing good with my short and admittedly fucked-up life. My childhood was utterly nondescript, other than having a load of pureblood nonsense I didn't really believe shoved down my craw until all I could do was vomit it back up to anyone who would listen. Even once I hit Hogwarts, there was little to be said. The first five years, I was an utter prat, whose only merit was how loudly I could yell 'My father!' at every well-deserved insult. Sixth year, I spent most of my time planning a murder that I knew in my heart of hearts was not only wrong, but impossible regardless. And seventh? Well I spent it trying not to be noticed by the Dark Lord, snivelling in fear with the rest of my family.

Floating in the darkness, I frowned. That really was all that my life had been, hadn't it? It was sad, really. I had wished so desperately, with such utter desire, to be important, to do something I could be proud of. I wanted something my _father_ could be proud of, for the family name. Now, all that was left of me was a miserable wretch sentenced to die with only his worst enemies to defend him. That was how the world would remember me, the last Malfoy.

It made me wonder why Potter had bothered anyways. We had never gotten along, what with me being an utter ponce, so why would he fight for me, or Granger for that matter? Unbidden, the image of both of them, shouting at the Wizengamot with tears in their eyes, came to mind, and words Granger had said rang in my ears.

" _We've lost so much. This war has taken so many lives, from both sides. Destroying more just makes you as bad as them."_ Granger and Potter probably didn't even care about me, anyways, not as a person. I was just an antagonist, a childhood rival to Potter to toughen him up and make his story have more substance, _but I was still a life._ Regardless of sides, regardless of what i had done, I was still a living human being who might still have more I could do, given the chance. And somehow, those two had seen that inside me. Even their friend Weasley had voted against me, shaking his head condescendingly, but those two didn't care. The thought sent my mind careening back, sorting through all the memories I had of them. Now that I thought about it, trapped in the dark embrace of death as I was, those two really were pure souls, the kind I wished i could have been. Always, they seemed so desperate to help others, to defend people and save lives. I remembered the many rumors that had chased them around their Hogwarts careers, even those which painted them as Dark Wizards. They were always in the thick of things, fighting the good fight against Voldemort and his ilk, but they didn't even think about it. Contrary to the many insult thrown at them, most by me, Potter never seemed to care for his fame, and even appeared to loathe it at times. Granger, as well, helped others without thought as to how it would affect her, and defended those she saw as innocent like a fierce lioness. I even remembered a few rumors that had flown around at one point about how she had started a campaign to free house elves.

 _Merlin, I wish i could've been like them,_ I thought, amusement growing in me as I continued to hang in darkness, the many thoughts of Potter and Granger's exploits flooding my mind. _Maybe then I would've done something worthwhile with my life._ Then, without warning, a voice echoed through the space around me, and I froze in shock.

 _Are you certain that is your wish?_ The voice was formless, despite how loud it was. I couldn't even tell if the speaker was male or female, and with the way it echoed I had no idea where they were. After a few minutes of waiting tensely, I got a distinct sensation of impatience rolled through me, and i decided that maybe it would be a good idea to speak up before whatever it was decided that simply being dead wasn't punishment enough for me.

"Uh, yeah, I guess." For a moment, I wanted to smack myself for sounding so idiotic, but I was cut off by the voice speaking yet again.

 _Very well then. The Malfoy shall be afforded another chance to set things right. Too many were taken. It shall be your place to set it right._ Before I could ask what in Merlin's baggy trousers the voice was talking about, a sudden chill swept through the darkness, which had previously been a perfectly comfortable temperature, and a sudden pinprick of light appeared in front of me. SEveral seconds later, the light had expanded to become a large portal, composed entirely of white space. A moment later, my body was no longer floating in the darkness, but instead being pushed towards the portal, panic flooding my body. What the bloody hell was this all about? I couldn't ask, however, as something seemed to have stolen my voice. I struggled to speak, to yell, _something,_ but nothing came out. All I could do was be pulled helplessly into a giant white portal in the middle of Death's embrace, the last words of an unknown being following me out. _Oh, and, don't mind the change. You'll get used to it… eventually._

XXX

So you're probably wondering what that has to do with Death and his utterly shite sense of humor. Well first, you'd have to understand what exactly happened. For those of you who aren't quited as fast as the others, I'll spell it out for you. To put it simply, I was reborn, shoved into the body of my newborn self. Yay, time travel. Don't ask me how it happened, or why. I honestly have no clue, not do I care to get one. What I do want to figure out, however, is why the _fuck_ Death- who I suspect was actually the voice that did this to me- decided to make me a _girl._

Yeah, you heard me right. I, Draco Malfoy, am now known as _Artemis_ Malfoy, the heiress to the Malfoy name. I mean, sure, by the time I was eleven, I'd pretty much gotten used to it, but imagine being a three year old about to be potty trained, and suddenly realizing you don't have the same parts as you used bout of accidental magic from _that_ little freak-out nearly took out the entire wing of the manor I was in at the time.

So yeah, I was a girl now, but that wasn't what I was worried about at the moment. No, i was too busy watching the door of Madam Malkin's for a head of black hair. See, That was the first part of my plan; befriend harry Potter, and do it right this time.

Oh yeah, I should probably explain what exactly I had been doing since I came back in time. Basically, my plan was to try to save as many people as possible, and limit Voldemort's reign from the very start. I highly doubted I could stop him from coming back completely, as I didn't know nearly enough of what events exactly played into that, but… I don't honestly know, really. I just knew that I had been given a chance to fix things, to save some of those lives which should never have been lost, and to do something good with my life. I'd be damned if I let something like that slip me by.

So I planned. And I planned. Until eventually, I realized that the best thing to do would just be to take things as they came, year by year. Every move I could possibly make, every action, would nullify a thousand other things i knew, making it impossible to predict anything. So I gave up on that. My only goal now was to be on the right side of the war this time, and do my best with the opportunities that came to me. And the one thing I knew would happen, the thing which could kick-start everything, was about to walk through that door, just as he had that long-ago day on my original Hogwarts shopping trip.

The sudden jingle of the bells shocked me out of my thoughts, making me jump and earning a stab in my leg from Madame Malkins. I ignored that, however, in favor of staring at the young boy who had come through the door, looking like a frightened jackrabbit ready to bolt. Merlin, he looked just like I remembered. His smallness caught me off-guard for a second though. Was he really that tiny in first year? I doubted he would even come up to my nose!

I watched with trepidation as the young boy was welcomed by Malkins, just as hesitant as before. Every thought in my head had fled at the moment i saw him, every plan gone like the wind. I knew I had to say something though, so I opened my mouth, only realizing too late the words that proceeded to spill out.

"Are you alright?" The boy's head whipped towards me, and I immediately regretted it when I saw the fear in his eyes.

"Uh… what?" He asked, his voice quavering slightly, and my heart suddenly broke. I had never really noticed during my first life, or tried not to, but now memories of rumors about Potter's home life came rushing back to me. It had been said that he lived with monstrous muggles who had mistreated him, feeding him through a cat-flap and caging him like an animal. I had no idea to the legitimacy of said rumors, especially as most had been used as an outcry for pity by his avid supporters, but looking at this scared and obviously underfed child, I could believe it. Steeling my resolve, i continued speaking, using all my pureblood training to keep the anger at his pathetic state out of my tone.

"I asked if you are alright. You appear… hesitant." I don't know if it worked as well as I had hoped, but apparently concern wasn't a bad thing, because the suspicion in his eyes seemed to fade a bit, and when he spoke again it was with a somewhat clearer voice.

"Oh, I'm fine. It's just… my first time in Diagon Alley." I nodded. That made sense, considering he was supposed to be living with Muggles. In fact, if I remembered correctly, he was being escorted by the half-giant Gameskeeper, Hagger or something. I never really bothered to learn the name, even when he was our Care of Magical Creatures Professor. Still, I couldn't act like I knew that, for obvious reasons.

"Oh? Are you muggleborn then?" I asked, with none of the disgust I would have carried at the thought from my previous life. My realizations when it came to Granger had made it perfectly clear to me that there was no way that muggleborns could actually be lesser than purebloods, and even before that I had been starting to have my doubts. Nothing I'd ever seen, regardless of how much blood-purity vitriol was shoveled onto me by my father, had proven otherwise. In fact, any time my father had started in on his anti-muggle speeches in this life, I had to completely tune him out, lest the disgust at how easily i had gulped up such horrid beliefs before make me sick.

'No, not really. My parents were a witch and wizard, but they died. I've been living with my mom's muggle relatives most of my life." A flare of anger pulsed through me at the thought, but I pushed it back down. Sure, I no longer believed Muggles were horrible as a principal, but no sane person would do something to cause the shadows that appeared in his eyes at the mention of his relatives, especially to a child. Clenching my jaw, I nodded slightly, remorse coloring my features.

"I'm very sorry for your loss." for a moment, I debated what to say next. Certainly, it did not appear pleasant for him to talk about his muggle relatives, but something compelled me to help. No child should ever look like that, but i needed to confirm that my fears were indeed true. "Do they… treat you well? They don't have a problem with you being magical, do they?" My heart sunk when the boy let out a short bark of dark laughter.

"A problem?No, I wouldn't call it that. More like an utter hatred for everything to do with magic... including me." The last two words slipped out of him in a whisper, but I still heard. Merlin, it must be even worse than I thought if his treatment at the hands of the muggles could elicit such a broken voice. Fighting the urge to look away in shame as memories of how I had so ignorantly mocked him for such things before flooded my mind, I held out my hand.

"Well, I don't hate magic, so you don't need to worry about me. Artemis Malfoy, at your service." He hesitated for a moment, but then took the hand.

"Um, nice to meet you, I guess. I'm Harry… Harry Potter." He looked like he was ready to bolt at any sign of over excitement about his name, but I surprised him by smiling softly.

"Harry, huh? That's a good name." Apparently my nonchalance was unexpected, because Harry tilted his head curiously.

"Have you… not heard of me? I thought I was supposed to be famous." My smile widened when I heard only curiosity in his tone. Just like my other life, he didn't seem to be one to brag about his title.

"Of course I have. I merely thought it would be somewhat rude to go crazy over that. I doubt you enjoy the attention you have as it is." Harry's eyes widened, but after a second of staring at me as if I had grown an extra head, he nodded, a small smile of his own forming.

"You're right. Thanks, for that. Everyone at the Leaky Cauldron went absolutely bonkers when they heard who I was." Suddenly, the image of a half dozen witches and wizards with beer mugs in their hands mobbing the small boy ran through my head, and I was forced to suppress a giggle. It was funny to think about.

"Yes, well, Malfoys don't go bonkers. We're much too refined for that." I replied, with as haughty a sniff i could manage. Harry seemed to get the joke, and raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Oh, I'm so sorry milady. I didn't realize the Malfoys were royalty. Please don't chop off my head." When i heard his horribly fake formal voice, I couldn't hold it in anymore, I suddenly burst into laughter. It was… a nice feeling, actually. I had never before laughed like that. None of my friends in my previous life, which consisted of essentially Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, and a few of the other simpering Slytherins, had ever shown really any sense of humor except mimicking my own, which was admittedly shallow. Now, to suddenly finding myself doubling over gasping as Malkins was forced to vacate the area, I realized just what I had been missing. I never really had friends, not really. They were allies, or in some cases minions, but never allies. Looking past Malkins's angry face to Harry's smiling one, however, I hoped that maybe, just maybe, I could fix that mistake as well.

XXX

 **Alright, I know I shouldn't be doing this. I already have several other stories going, and should probably focus my attention on them. Well,, don't worry. I won't be trying to put a heavy emphasis on this story. To be honest, I don't even know if it will go past this chapter. For now though, I'm simply doing it to remove stress and writer's block, since this requires very little planning. It is a simple time-travel story where I will attempt to simply write what happens as it comes. DOn't expect any deep worked plots or great big, overarching machinations with this story. I just wanted to do something with time travel, since it can be nice and fun and lighthearted, so here it is. Do try not to kill me in my sleep please, and I apologize for anything that may seem off-kilter with my thought processes for this. I'm sort of up past my bedtime, so if Artemis's thought process is random, I'm sorry. I will consider cleaning it up later, if necessary.**

 **Now, i think it's time for me to sign off. I hope you enjoy, and even though this is a sort of relaxation fic, your reviews and comments are still highly appreciated. See you sometime later! Bye!**


	2. Of Wands and Bonds

Ollivander's had always creeped me out, even though I'd only gone there a couple times in my previous life. The organized clutter, the dusty shelves, all of it reminded me of some sort of abandoned warehouse,where mass murderers hid the bodies in those muggle films I watched as a kid during my original rebellious streak. Now that pretty much my entire life was a rebellious streak, the image was even more deeply ingrained, and i shuddered as I stepped through the entrance, the cheer from my short encounter with Harry Potter slipping away like a cloak.

"Ah, ms. Malfoy. Yes, I have been expecting you." And there he was, the old coot who made the horror movie image complete, peering at me over his glasses like some sort of creepy old man. Sure, for most people he may seem sort of grandfatherly, but I wasn't fooled. I was half convinced the guy was some sort of pedophile.

"Hello, I'm here to buy a wand. It's my first year at Hogwarts." I tried to reply politely, gritting my teeth against his ever-more creepy smile. For a moment, I regretted coming here without my mother or father, having left them to continue the rest of my shopping while i collected my wand, but then shook off the thought. I may look like an eleven year old girl, but in my mind I was far older, and more mature. A decrepit shopkeeper wouldn't get to me that easily. Still, I was forced to suppress a shudder when his smile widened, and he nodded in a knowing manner.

"Of course, of course. Hold out your wand arm, and we shall get your measurements." I grimaced, but did as told, a tiny little enchanted tape measure appearing and starting to measure every conceivable stretch of my body it could. I knew that it was mostly just a distraction for him to start sorting through the shelves and seem even more mysterious, but that knowledge did little to make the process any less annoying, especially now that I was a girl and some of the measurements taken were a lot more intrusive. Seriously, what would he need to know about an eleven year old's bust size for?

After a while, the tape measure seemed to be done with its job and disappeared, just as Ollivander reappeared holding several boxes with wands in them. A quick glance told me that none were my old hawthorn wand, but I wasn't exactly able to tell the old coot that, so with a long suffering sigh, I picked up the first and gave it a wave, already expecting the failed results. We continued that way for some time, me growing more and more exasperated as the pile of rejects piled up beside me. I could have sworn it hadn't taken nearly this long to find my wand the last time, but it had been quite a while since then. Perhaps the memory had been blurred by time.

Finally, just as it seemed that i had waved nearly every other wand in the shop, Ollivander pulled out a slightly familiar box, with a very familiar wand resting , my boredom turned into excitement. This was it. Practically salivating, I picked it up gingerly, anticipation welling up inside of me. I gave it a wave, waiting… and nothing happened.

For a moment, I stared at the wand, wondering what was wrong with it. There was no rush of warmth, no spark of acceptance, nothing. It just sat there, in silent refusal to react, even negatively. So lost in my scrutiny was I that I hardly even noticed when Ollivander snatched the wand away, with a muttered "As I expected." Once that had happened, i slumped down, staring into space. Why had it rejected me? My wand had rejected me. That couldn't happen.

Just as I was starting to shake myself free of my stupor in order to ask Ollivander if maybe I could try one more time with the hawthorn and dragon heartstring wand that I _knew_ was meant to be mine, he emerged from the farthest reaches of the shop, and my attention was suddenly caught by the tenderness with which he held the newest box in his hands. Inside was perhaps the oldest looking wand I had ever seen.

The wood was a pale yellow, giving off an oddly cheery sense of life, but there was something about it that made me shudder as a chill went down my wand itself was fairly plain, with a simple grip and lacking any sort of carving whatsoever. Despite that, I had the feeling that it wasn't what it seemed, and when I reached out to pick it up, it was with hesitant a hesitant hand.

When my fingers finally touched the wand, fingers slipping around the smooth wood to grip it tightly as if it had been made for my hand, I gasped at the sudden sensation that swept through me. It was like… it was like I had a bucket of ice water dumped in my veins, while at the same time they combusted into liquid magic, more powerful than anything I had ever felt, coursed through me, scouring my very soul as the wand tested me, than with an audible hiss in my mind, accepted what it found. As the feeling of fire and ice settled down, I glanced at Ollivander, who was watching me with a strange glimmer in his eyes that hadn't been there before.

"Oh my, it certainly likes you. How very unexpected." With an unconscious twirl, i slipped the wand into my wrist holster, raising an eyebrow at the man. I had no idea what had just happened, but one thing was for certain. This was _my_ wand, and I was most certainly going to keep it.

"What exactly just happened? And what do you mean by unexpected?" Frustratingly, he chuckled.

"The wand accepted you dear, which I must say is quite an accomplishment. Tell me, what do you know of wandlore?"

"Not much, I'm afraid."

"A shame. Well, let me compound it for you. See, in my long experience, I have rarely made wands with any sort of magical core other than dragon heartstring, unicorn hair, or phoenix feather. Most other cores are not quite… up to Ollivander standard. That wand, however, is an exception." I glanced at my wrist, where said wand was now residing.

"And why is that?"

"Because its core is not one of those three materials. I made it out of the tail-hair of a thestral." I felt my face go cold. Thestral hair… that must have been extraordinarily difficult to manage, as the winged horses were invisible to any who had not seen death. More than that, however, they supposedly had powerful magical attributes, including an incredibly strong connection to death. And considering my particular circumstances… this was going to be interesting. "That is not the only thing that makes that particular wand exceptional however. See, in all my many long years of wand crafting, i have only ever come across the one lock of Thestral hair, which is why I don't use it in more wands, despite its exceptional qualities. Thus, i felt the need to do something rather special with it. So, I used all my skill and power to place it into a wand of willow wood." This, I was confused by. I knew that the wood of a wand did have an effect, but I was unsure what significance willow wood might carry. Ollivander must have seen my confusion, because he quickly explained.

"Willow quite often has powerful healing attributes, and consistently chooses those with the greatest potential. Combine that with Thestral hair, and you get a wand that holds a powerful connection to both life and death, and is likely to choose an owner who could greatly influence either. Their, or in this case your, destiny is most likely to be one upon which a great deal of lives are determined, and the balance of light and dark will teeter upon your choices." I stared at the man, my grey eyes wide. Holy shit, that… that actually sounded accurate. My entire reason for being here was to stop Voldemort and save as many lives as I could. The balance of light and dark indeed. My choices really could decide life and death for a lot of people, and whoever won the war.

After that little exposition, the excitement dropped from Ollivander, and suddenly he was back to being a genial old merchant. I paid for the wand with stiff movements, stammered a thank you, and practically fell out of the door back into Diagon Alley. Once there, i leaned against a nearby lamppost, taking a moment to stare at the crowds as they flowed through the Alley, chattering and shopping. Flashes of Diagon Alley from during the war, under Voldemort's reign and even the year before crossed my mind's eye, and I glanced at my wrist, where my new wand was safely tucked away under my sleeve.

I hadn't mourned, I realized with a shock. I hadn't even been given a chance after the war to realize it was over, having been arrested less than a day after the battle of Hogwarts. Hell, I didn't even know who all had died, if anyone I knew and didn't necessarily hate from either side And now, looking at the crowds, the enormity of what exactly I was trying to do hit me. All these people depended on me, whether they realized it or not.

There was only one thing I could do after that, really. I ran to the nearest trash can on the street, and hurled.

XXX

After that rather disturbing fiasco, the summer passed quickly. My mother fretted over me, which she hadn't necessarily done last time around, but I had grown used to that. It was funny, really, how me being a girl had changed so much, and yet nothing at all. Father, who had always been cold at the best of times, was now practically carved from stone. He was likely disappointed that his only heir was a daughter, and not a son. Conversely, mother, who had been the kinder of the two anyways, was now practically smothering.

Somehow, i survived, and was now on the Hogwarts Express once again, having finally escaped the attentions of my mother. I had looked for Harry on the platform, but he had been nowhere to be seen, so I had simply resolved to find the boy on the train. Hopefully, I could grab him before Weasley closed his desperate claws around the highly impressionable kid. While I didn't necessarily think of the red-headed clan with the same scorn I used to, that was most likely _not_ the case in reverse, and it would be that much more difficult to befriend him if Weasley turned him against me.

With a huff, I lugged my trunk onto a rack before dropping into the seat below. There was little to do until the train finally set off, since it would be impossible to find him in the crowd, so I settled in to wait. Sadly, it seemed fate didn't take too kindly to my plans.

"Um, hello. Is there any room in this compartment?" I glanced up, only to find a sight that both terrified and exhilarated me at the same time. What was Granger doing here?

"Um uh, sure." I stuttered, utterly surprised by the sight of the girl. She looked almost nothing like I remembered although she was at least still recognizable. Before, she had actually been one of the most desirable girls in our year, having filled out and developed after fourth year into an elegant and beautiful young woman. This eleven year old was nowhere near that person, with a frizzy mop of hair in place of the smooth and sophisticated curls I knew she would later sport, and she still had the slightly overlarge teeth she had gotten fixed after I hit her with a tooth-enlarging hex during… I think it was third year?

"Is there something in my teeth? Why are you staring at me?" The sudden question pulled me out of the awed stupor I had fallen into, and i shook my head to clear it. Granger was looking at me with no small amount of trepidation, and with a surge of panic, I made to excuse myself.

"Sorry, you just look like someone i knew once. I didn't mean to offend." I nearly collapsed with relief when the girl offered a small smile in response. I still remembered how hard she could hit, and I didn't want to make an enemy of her in this life as well.

"No, it's fine. I was just worried... Well, never mind." I frowned at the dismissal, but ignored it for now. Instead, i offered my hand, surprising the girl.

"Artemis Malfoy, at your service." I almost laughed as she looked down at the offered hand dubiously. I held it back, however, and when she finally took it I smiled brightly.

"Hermione Granger. It's nice meeting you." And with that, she took the trunk beside her and shoved it onto a rack, before sitting down across from me and pulling out a heavy looking tome. Of course Granger had a book with her.

"What are you reading?" Startled, the girl looked up from the first page.

"Oh, uh I'm reading _Hogwarts, a History_. Again." She said the last word hesitantly, and I could see the narrowing of eyes as if she expected me to say something about her reading a book twice. Luckily, I knew better than that.

"That seems like a good idea. Maybe you'll end up in Ravenclaw." I don't know what it was I said, but it seemed to be a good thing, because suddenly the girl launched into conversation. For the next several minutes, we discussed the different houses, and their pros and cons. By the time the train had started moving, the girl was already trying to convince me to join Ravenclaw, claiming that it sounded like the best house because who wouldn't want to be a searcher of knowledge? I, on the other hand, was of the opinion that Slytherin had the greatest potential, despite my failings in that house during my previous life. I was sure that if i tried, maybe I could turn it into something good, instead of the antagonistic house that everyone hated. Yes, my main goal was to stop Voldemort from killing everybody, but that didn't mean I couldn't improve other things as well.

I didn't even notice how fast time was passing, too busy was I conversing with Hermione. As it turned out, the girl was most definitely a good conversationalist, if a bit stubborn in her beliefs. She was intelligent, something I couldn't say for most of the people I had hung around my first time through Hogwarts, and with a start, I realized it was actually fun talking to her, even if the topic was whether or not Quidditch was a barbaric sport or not. I was definitely regretting my decision to shun her based purely on her blood in my previous life, a trend that I was starting to notice occurring more and more often.

I was suddenly brought back to the real world by the arrival of the trolley witch. With wild eyes, i glanced at the wristwatch I was wearing, and saw that it was early afternoon, far later than I had thought. Damn, I was planning on finding Harry as soon as the train started! With a sheepish grin, I turned back to the bushy-haired witch I had been conversing with.

"Um, Hermione? I don't want to be rude, but there was someone I was hoping to find on the train, but I lost track of the time. Do you mind if we leave it here for now?" I asked, hoping I didn't make her think I didn't want to talk to her anymore. There was a flicker in her eyes, which I tried desperately to decipher, before suddenly her entire face brightened.

"Why don't I come with you? I'd love to meet more people!" My jaw dropped as she jumped up and pulled me bodily through the door, too surprised to resist. We made it an entire twenty feet before she suddenly stopped, turning to me shyly. "Um, which direction should we go?" Recovered from my shock, i snorted in amusement. Like i knew? Knowing my luck, The-Boy-Who-Lived wouldn't even be in the same compartment. Still, I took the lead, marching down the train in a quest for the familiar head of black hair.

It didn't take long to find him, which wasn't all that surprising considering the large crowd of people who were milling about the compartment door while trying to look like they _weren't_ just fanboying and fangirling all over the place. It was actually kind of disgusting, now that I think about it. Still, I managed to shove my way through the crowd, a suddenly shy Hermione trailing quietly behind me as I pulled open the compartment door with the highest concentration of admirers.

"There you are, Harry. I was starting to wonder whether the raging hordes of rabid fans had carried you off and had their way with your honor." The surprised rabbit look that peered up at me from underneath those horribly mismatched bangs was utterly priceless. Even more so was the gobsmacked face one Ronald Weasley was making from a corner of the compartment.

"A-Artemis? What are you talking about?" With a grin, I dropped down into the nearest seat after holding open the compartment door for Hermione to follow me. Even as it slid closed I could hear several muttered whispers about 'damned foolish first years'.

"Oh, you didn't notice them? I suppose I must warn you then that you have quite the pack of admirers out there. Oh, and it's nice to see you again." My grin widened slightly as Harry seemed to regain his bearings, realising that I was trying to make a joke out of his fame. Apparently, it worked even better than simply ignoring it.

"As long as they don't cause a stampede, I'm sure we'll be fine." Merlin's pants, i hadn't been expecting that from him. And what was with the roguish grin he was throwing my way? Maybe that day in Diagon Alley hadn't been a fluke after all.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" I glanced over at the sudden outburst to see Weasley glaring at me with all the ferocity of a baby chihuahua. Forcing myself to stifle a snort, I smiled serenely at him.

"My apologies, I seem to have forgotten my manners. I am Artemis Malfoy, and this here is Hermione Granger. I already know Harry, but I'm assuming you must be one of the Weasley's, correct?" Again, I had to wrangle with my amusement as the ginger's face grew even more red, but I could see laughter flickering in Harry's eyes from the corner of my eye. He, of course, knew that my posh tone was meant to be a joke.I did feel a bit of pity for Hermione though, the poor girl looking between us confusedly.

"Um, I don't think he's supposed to be turning that shade of red." She stated innocently, and I actually raised an eyebrow at her. Was she being serious?

"You're a Malfoy!? What's a little snake like you doing here?" Suddenly, my smile disappeared, and I fixed the Weasley scion with a deadly glare that no normal eleven year old would be able to pull off. He called me a snake? Well, I suppose I could bare my fangs to match then.

" _I_ am here to say hello to my friend, as I was unable to at the Platform. What, may I ask are you doing here? I'm sure you're perfectly aware who he is, and was before you even stepped foot into this compartment." At my words, the boy's flush suddenly changed from one of anger to embarrasment, and i watched as Harry suddenly sat up, his attention squarely on Weasley's response.

"I'm making sure Harry Potter isn't corrupted by slimy Slytherins and dark wizards and witches like you!" He blurted, and I allowed myself to smirk. Bloody Gryffindor, to the core. For a moment, I thought about helping push him even further into the hole he had just dug himself, but from the looks of it, there was no need, as Harry's face had suddenly turned deathly cold.

"Excuse me?" he asked in a voice that made even _me_ shiver. Holy shit, that was _not_ a happy voice. What happened to the nice little Gryffindor?

"Uh…" Said Weasley dumbly. His own face had turned pale, and his eyes were frantically begging forgiveness. Harry, however, had none to give.

"You're making sure I'm not _corrupted_? You mean you're manipulating me into being your friend?" Ouch, that one struck home, and the last of the blood left in Weasley's blood drained away. Now his eyes were flickering towards the door, as if wondering if he could make a break for it. "So, not only are you _not_ actually interested in my genuine friendship, but you insulted the one person who is? In front of my face too." Suddenly, he sat back, an evil smirking crossing his face to make it look utterly foreign even to me. Dear Merlin, he looked positively Slytherin. "Well, what _am_ I going to do with you?"

"Toss him to the fans?" Both me and Harry turned to face Hermione, who was still shyly in the corner. Damn, i had nearly forgotten she was even there. "Those people are all out there because of you, right? You're Harry Potter. So they won't be happy he was trying to poach you, will they?" If someone had taken a picture of me at that moment, it probably would've sold for millions in my old lifetime. Surprise was written large across both me and Harry's faces, and Hermione started to fidget with her hands as she bit her lips while waiting for our response. After a moment, Harry turned to me, an eyebrow raised, and I shrugged. It actually sounded like a good plan. Now in possession of my blessing, the raven-haired boy turned back to Weasley, that Slytherin smirk still stretched wide across his face.

"So, are you going out on your own two feet, or on your arse?" Weasley didn't stick around to answer verbally, shooting to his feet and scrabbling for the compartment door. For a moment, i was tempted to stick my leg in the way, but that would have turned it from a lesson into sheer bullying, and I wasn't going to be that again. So Weasley managed to get out with only a tattered pride, and there was silence in the compartment for a few seconds. Then, without warning, Harry's smirk suddenly turned into a real grin, and a burst of laughter broke free from him.

"Did-did you see? He was so terrified!" Incredulous, i watched as Harry Potter, the bloody noblest Gryffindor, laughed at a boy who in another lifetime had been his best friend. What the hell had just happened? A quick glance with Hermione, looking just as bewildered as I was, told me nothing, so I was just going to have to figure it out for myself.

"You know, i never took you for a prankster." Harry turned his grin on me at the comment, and for some reason, my cheeks heated up at the sight of it.

"Really? If that's what a prank is, I think I could make a brilliant one." I raised an eyebrow. He didn't even know what a prank was? Merlin, just how bad had this kid's childhood been? Before I could say anything else though, Hermione suddenly spoke up.

"It was… kind of funny, if a bit mean. Are you sure he deserved that?" Harry's grin didn't falter, but he did turn an appraising eye to the bushy haired witch.

"I don't know, did he? All he did was try to befriend me purely for my fame, manipulate me and who I think are 'good' or 'bad', and then insult my first and only friend. Maybe I did go a bit too harsh on him." This time, I couldn't hold back the snort that erupted out of me as Hermione turned red with embarrassment.

"I-i only meant…" She tried to say, but Harry waved her explanation away, smile softening slightly.

"It's fine, I understand. You are right to an extent. That could very easily have turned ugly. Actually, it's because of you it didn't." Hermione's embarrassment suddenly turned into curiosity, and I could have sworn I saw her eyes gleam.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, it was your suggestion that kept me from just punching him in the face." Harry's expression turned pensive for a moment, before he let out another snort of laughter. "Throw him to the fans. Bloody brilliant."

"Language!" I snorted at Hermione's shrill admonishment, watching with a smile as the two eleven-year-olds fell into an argument over whether or not curse words were really such a bad thing. After a few moments of that, I tuned them out, turning to look through the window and watch the countryside pass by. As I looked at the rolling green hills, the absurdity of what had just happened sunk into me slowly. I was sitting in a train compartment with Harry Bloody Potter and Hermione Granger, and I had just helped chase off Ronald Weasley. Dear Merlin, I just broke up the Golden Trio before it could even form. What the actual fuck?

A cry of frustration brought me back to the present, and I turned back to see the Hermione pulling her hair in annoyance, and Harry collapsed on the seat, consumed by giggles. "What did you do to her?" I asked, amusement coloring my tone as Harry turned to me with shining eyes.

"I told her that if she was so worried about keeping me on my best behavior she'll just have to become my pranking partner. That way, she can make sure I don't do anything _too_ bad. You know, damage control and all that." My jaw dropped as I looked at Hermione, who was now glaring out of the window sullenly.

"And you agreed?" The girl sniffed, before looking at me with annoyance glimmering in her eyes.

"Of course i agreed. I can already tell he's going to blow up a school toilet or something if I leave him unattended for too long." Suddenly, her face turned impish, taking me aback. "It's his eyes, i think. He's obviously a Dark Lord in training." Unconsciously, my eyes shot towards Harry, where he was looking at me with said eyes. Suddenly, I was taken in by the unearthly green of them. I had never noticed before, but they really were beautiful, a deep, vibrant green that shone with life and mischief in equal measure. I found myself lost in them, until I was drawn back with the sound of snickering. Shifting my eyes, i looked at Hermione, who had a hand to her mouth in order to hide the wide grin she was sporting. What had just happened?

"Uh…" I said intelligently, mentally beating myself a second later for sounding like Weasley of all people. Now Harry was the one snickering, and he leaned over to Hermione to whisper loudly in her ear even as my cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"Looks like you were right. I hadn't even noticed." And just like that, I was lost. Whatever it was, they obviously found it funny, their laughter growing more and more pronounced as I grew more and more red.

"Alright, what is it you two are talking about?" i demanded, My annoyance leaking into the question. All I got was a frustrating grin, this time from both of them.

"Oh, nothing much. Although, I suppose we could tell you… if you joined our little pranking circle." My eyes widened, and i glanced between them. No, this was not happening. Sure, I wanted to be friends with them, but… this sounded way too much like the beginning of a new Trio. I couldn't do that. I was Malfoy, for Merlin's sake! I couldn't be a part of the Golden trio, regardless of whether I had kicked Weasley out of the running!

"I… don't know." I said, my mouth dry. Was I really changing things so fast? From what I could remember, Granger hadn't even befriended Potter on the train. They had practically been enemies all the way up until Halloween, and now they were starting a pranking circle? What the hell?

I was just about to open my mouth to protest when a thought struck me. Hadn't Wormtail always gone on about a group with James Potter, a bunch of Pranksters or something? In fact, wasn't 'Wormtail' actually one of the codenames they used for each other? If so, then this ran in the blood. I don't know what it was about last time that prevented it from happening, or what it was I had done in this life to awaken it, but as I looked at the two eleven-year-olds sitting across from me, I knew. There was no way I was getting out of this if pranking was a Potter family trait. Harry would pester me until I agreed, no matter what I did. Merlin's hairy pants, he had already corrupted Hermione Granger, of all people! After just ten minutes of sharing a compartment!

"Fine." I said, letting out a heavy sigh as Harry jumped up to applause. Hermione was a bit more subdued in her celebration, but I could still see the glow of triumph in her eyes. She always had cared more about winning than the rules, hadn't she? "So, what's the secret?" Suddenly the celebrations died down, and Harry turned a sly smile on me.

"Well… Hermione here claimed you had a crush on me. I told her to prove it." I stared at them, utterly surprised. I what?

"No! I don't have a crush on you, I swear!" I spat vehemently, denying it with all my heart. No, there was no fucking way! Sadly, neither of them seemed inclined to believe me, both collapsing into giggles Frustrated, I searched for something to say, anything to make them completely and totally forget that such a thought had ever existed. In a spark of brilliance, I finally grasped something, and a small smirk crossed my face.

"Yeah, well, Hermione has a book fetish!" Okay, so I didn't expect them to actually know what fetish meant, except maybe some kind of obsession, but apparently I had misjudged them. Hermione's face turned pale, and while Harry had stopped laughing, his eyes were still full of mirth.

"I do not!" Cried the bushy-haired witch, but I just gave her a sly look that had her turning pink.

"Oh? Shall we go back to our own compartment and see? I'm sure we'll find plenty of proof there, miss read-Hogwarts-A-History- _again_." The girl shrieked in rage, and I barely had time for my smile to slip off my face before she launched herself at me. We went down in a tangle of limbs and hair, my waist-length blonde hair getting tangled with her mane of bushy brown. Luckily for her, her shrieks turned into breathless giggles before I could get my wand hand free to slip my new wand out and retaliate. Thankfully, I recognized the sound, and realized she wasn't actually attacking me, but play-wrestling.

With bubbling laughter of my own, I fought back. Somewhere along the way, Harry decided to join in, and soon it turned into a three way slugfest of eleven year old limbs and body parts, until eventually we all ended up in a big pile on the floor, breathless and flushed with exertion. I lay, tucked snugly between the two, staring up at the train ceiling.

As I lay there, I realized something. I was _happy._ I'd never felt like this before, when surrounded by my 'friends' in Slytherin. Of course, I never really interacted with them before, instead striding around all pomp and brattiness, but still. I'd been surrounded by people, but never before had I truly felt _free_ , as I did now. My head turned back and forth, taking in my companions. Both of them had sated looks of contentment on their faces, which bewildered me. I could understand myself changing; I was experiencing something completely different, and was a changed person. However, I had never seen such looks or comfortableness on Harry and Hermione's faces before, even in my other life. Sure, they and Weasley had been close, inseparable practically, but never like this. There'd always been some sort of forced distance, like they didn't quite fit together. Somehow, this felt purer, cleaner than the Golden Trio had ever been. This felt _right_.

Merlin, what was I doing?

XXX

 **Well, that's done. Good gods, I just couldn't find a place to end that, could I? I meant to just sit down and pop out a nice two to three thousand word chapter and be good, but somehow that turned into…** _ **this**_ **. It's actually the longest chapter I've done in a while.**

 **Anyways, so I hope you enjoyed the chapter. If you would, please leave comments on what you thought, what things in particular you liked, and what you think I can do better on. I am always open to criticism, so please, don't forget to review. Thank you, and I'll see ya all later! Sayonara!**


	3. In Which a hat Shatters My World-View

Standing just outside to the entrance to the Great Hall, I shivered in excitement. Here I was, back at Hogwarts, and this time, I would do things _right_. Soon, i would be sorted, and I would be able to start my work of turning Slytherin into something good and worthwhile, rather than the house that everyone hated and reviled. Before I could get to that, however, I would be forced to deal with the wild imaginations of a bunch of eleven-year-olds.

"George told me that we'd have to wrestle a troll." I managed to stop myself from rolling my eyes at Weasley's nonsensical declaration, but only just. Really, a troll?

"It's nothing quite so boorish as that, Weasley. All we have to do is put on a hat." I drawled, making the kid jump about ten feet in the air. I snickered at the response; it seemed he was already becoming wary around me.

"And what would you know, Malfoy? Or did your parents let it slip while they were teaching you dark magic?" I flicked my gaze around the crowd of ickle firsties that had surrounded us before raising an eyebrow at the ginger.

"Seriously? We're going for stereotypes already? I suppose we know which house you'll end up in. Of course, that was obvious enough. You're already sporting Gryffindor colors." I smirked as the crowd around us echoed with giggles. Yep, Weasley was already going red, although I wasn't certain whether it was out of embarrassment or anger.

"Yeah, well, at least I won't be a slimy snake!" He yelled, and I was forced to chuckle at his childishness. Before I could continue to pound the child verbally, however, McGonagall returned from preparing the Great Hall for our entrance, and I smiled, glad that I would no longer have to deal with him. We entered the hall in a mass of young bodies, and I took a moment to admire the sight, which before my death and subsequent rebirth, I had never thought to see again.

In the air, there were hundreds of floating candles, and below them were hundreds of students to match. The ceiling, as well, was quite awe-inspiring, even after seven years of viewing it before. It was enchanted to look like the sky outside, and at the moment it portrayed a clear night sky, with stars glittering. As we trooped down the rows between tables, whispers spread throughout the student-lined tables. I already knew what most of them would be; Most were unsure of whether Harry would actually be coming to Hogwarts, and nearly every eye in the hall, aside from Dumbledore and McGonagall, was scanning the crowd, hoping to catch sight of the elusive Boy Who Lived.

I ignored the start of the ceremony as McGonagall set the hat out and it started to sing. I had heard it all before, and wasn't interested. Instead, I kept an eye on those around me, and their various reactions. Most, as expected, were awed by their surroundings, although a few-likely Purebloods- were looking at the ragged hat with some measure of disgust. I didn't however, remembering vividly how it had allowed Neville Longbottom to retrieve the sword of Gryffindor and slay Voldemort's prized snake. It may look dirty and useless, but it was certainly a powerful magical object.

Finally, the wretched song was over, and we had moved onto the actual sorting of the students. I watched with only slight interest. I knew where most would go, but… I had already changed things by destroying the Golden Trio. By this point, I was determined not to be surprised by anything I might have messed with. Luckily, that didn't seem to be the case… until Hermione was called up.

XXX

" _Ah, hello child. You are an interesting one."_

" _Oh, thank you!"_

" _You are welcome. Now, where should I put you? You have a sharp mind, that is for certain. And no small amount of bravery either… Oh, and a great deal of ambition too, it would seem."_

" _Ambition? WHat do you mean?"_

" _Ohoho, you don't know? You are planning to keep the son of James Potter out of trouble. If that's not ambitious, I don't know what is. And you have quite the hidden bit of deviousness to you as well."_

" _I am not_ devious _!"_

" _Oh? What was it you said about that poor boy on the train again? 'Throw him to the fans?' No, no, I am a great judge of character-was designed to be- and you most certainly have the sort of razor sharp wit old Salazar would practically be slavering to possess."_

" _But what about Ravenclaw? I love knowledge. And I've always believed in the sanctity of rules and education."_

" _That you have, child, but not necessarily to the degree you tell yourself. No, I sense that you are one who greatly enjoys winning, and will place it above knowledge or obedience if it came down to it. And the best place for that kind of person is most definitely_ Slytherin!"

XXX

My jaw dropped as I heard the Sorting Hat call out Hermione's house. _What in Merlin's hairy ball sack?_ Hermione Granger was _not_ just sorted into Slytherin. No way no how, I wasn't going to believe it. She was a muggleborn for Merlin's sake!

Sadly, it seemed, I would be forced to believe it, if the bushy-haired witch setting the hat back on its stool and calmly making her way over to the table filled with green and silver robes was any indication. At least I wasn't the only one who couldn't believe either their eyes or ears. Practically all of the purebloods in the room, of every house and year, were staring with wide-open mouths. Sure, they were more surprised that a muggleborn had just been sorted into Slytherin, which was entirely unheard of, rather than the fact that _Hermione Granger,_ bloody queen of following the rules, was now a Slytherin.

I was so caught up in wondering whether I was somehow dreaming that I nearly missed it when McGonagall called me up to be sorted. It was only when she had to call a second time that i recognized my surroundings and shook myself. _Okay, Artemis_ , I thought to myself. _You can do this. Maybe… maybe it's not all that bad. And hey, if the hat decides to place you in Gryffindor, or Hufflepuff, you can just burn the bloody thing, Ceremony be damned._ With that pleasant thought in mind, I made my unsteady way up to the stool, gingerly taking the ragged Hat from an annoyed looking McGonagall and placing it on top of my head.

" _Oho, what have we here? A time traveler, eh?"_

" _Spout that fact and i will burn you."_

" _Oh, no need to worry about that, I am bound to keep any and all secrets I may discover. Now, onto the Sorting. Where should I place you?_

" _Slytherin, of course."_

" _Are you certain? I can see that I placed you there once before, and it failed you spectacularly. Maybe another house would be more prudent this time around."_

" _No, don't. I… I want to do better this time."_

" _Better?"_

" _Yes, better. You saw my potential before. Hell, you barely had to touch my head to decide, but i was an ignorant, pompous brat and squandered it. Let me fix that mistake. Let me be the Slytherin you knew I could be._

" _Well, you make a good argument, at least. Perhaps you do deserve a second chance in_ Slytherin!" With a grin, I set the hat down, before running to the familiar table of Green and Silver. It was odd, very odd, to sit beside a clapping Hermione, who looked incredibly foreign with the green edging that had appeared on her robes, but I managed to push it aside. I'd already been turned into a girl, after all. Surely i could manage a Slytherin Granger... Dear Merlin, it wasn't a dream. This really was my life now.

XXX

"Potter, Harry!"

" _Hello, Hat."_

" _Oh, a polite one, are you? Or are you making fun of my name?"_

" _Why, I'd never! Merely your existence, of course."_

" _Ah, yes, you are most certainly your Father's son. Ever possessed of a quick quip, that one."_

" _Does that mean I'll be going to Gryffindor, then?"_

" _Not necessarily. No, your father's brashness has also been tempered by your mother's calm intellect. As well as you could do there, I don't believe it would fit you quite right."_

" _Hmm, I suppose you have a point there. Plus, everyone expects me to be in Gryffindor anyways. It'd be a brilliant prank to go somewhere else."_

" _A prank, you say. It would certainly be that. And you do have a great deal of ambition, as well. A prankster to live up to even your father's legacy? Yes, that would be quite the feat."_

" _Look closer, Hat. I don't just want to live up to whatever standard my Father may have left. One thing i've learned during my time at the Dursley's is that if you're going to do something, you don't do it by half. I'm going to shake the very foundations of this school, and become the greatest prankster the Wizarding World has ever known!"_

" _My, my, such passion, and all from just earlier today? You certainly don't hold back from anything you set your heart to, do you? Yes, I think you'll do just fine in_ Slytherin!"

XXX

 _Thunk. Thunk. Thunk._

"Um, Artemis? Are you alright?" I glanced up from where I was currently beating my head against the Slytherin table to glare at Hermione, whose face was furrowed in concern.

"No, Granger, I'm not alright. My entire world-view was just shattered, so I would thank you kindly to leave me to mourn it in the privacy of my own mind." I hardly even realized that I had slipped into calling her by her last name, so scattered were my thoughts at the moment. I should have expected it, really. How could I not, when the world was obviously trying to screw with my head as it was. Harry bloody Potter being sorted into Slytherin wasn't all that surprising by the standards of the rest of the day, but sadly, my poor, naive belief that my life might retain some sense of normality despite being reborn, as a girl no less, didn't care about that.

"You're talking all posh and fancy again. Either something's wrong, or you're telling a joke." My eyes shifted to the side in annoyance, but Potter ignored the glare as he sat down on my other side, looking all too smug with that damning green trim on his robes.

"Shove it, Potter. I'm not in the mood." The raven-haired boy eyed me for a second, before letting out a short chuckle.

"The latter then. Pray tell, what _is_ the matter?" I flicked my gaze between the two Gryffindors-turned-Slytherin, eyes narrowing as i absorbed their demeanors. Granger, as absurd as the thought was, was looking at me with clear concern in her eyes, a frown marring her preteen face. Potter, at least, was trying to put on a facade of amusement, but even that was for my sake. I could see the tension in his stance, as he appeared ready to run at the first sign of true hostility. Dammit, I was about an inch from scaring him off.

"I… well… I just didn't expect you two, of all people, to be Slytherins." I said lamely. "In fact, if it weren't for Death's horrible sense of humor and his insatiable need to inflict it upon others, I'm sure you would be sitting somewhere over there," I waved my hand in the vague direction of the Gryffindor table, "instead of over here."

"And what do you mean by that? The us not being Slytherin bit, not that thing about Death, whatever that's about." I gave Hermione an annoyed look. Of course she would catch onto the comment about Death. I could already see her filing it away for later use, but right now there were more important things to worry about.

"I _mean_ , look at you. Hermione Granger, the queen of bookworms and teacher's pets," I replied, pointing a finger at the muggleborn witch, before turning it to the boy beside her. "And Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. Need I say more?" Aggravatingly, or perhaps fortunately, Harry didn't seem offended by the reference to his title, although I didn't mean it in quite the same way most would. In fact, he appeared triumphant if anything.

"But that's the point, isn't it? Everyone expects me to go into Gryffindor, so being a Slytherin is the best prank ever." he gloated, and against my will, a small smile slid over my features. Damn, but he was insatiable. Why, by all that was holy, did I have to introduce him to pranking?

After that, we fell silent, having noticed that the Sorting was starting to come to an end. Luckily, it seemed that Death had decided to give my increasingly fragile hold on sanity a break, and Weasley ended up in his proper house of Gryffindor. Either that, or the boy was just too much of one to ever make it into Slytherin, even with the intervention of a god. I don't think I would've been able to accept that, no matter what reasons were given. The Sorting Ceremony wrapped up pretty much how I remembered, and Dumbledore got up to give his annoying little 'show', saying nonsense words to as a secret message to the Hogwarts House Elves to bring up the feast. After a few glances to each other, which told me that while Harry and Hermione may have put my comments behind them for now, they still weren't entirely done with me yet, we started to dig in. I was just reaching for a bowl of mashed potatoes, however, when the festive air suddenly came crashing down, starting with Theodore Nott opening his fat mouth.

WHat do _you_ think you're doing here, Granger? You don't belong in Slytherin." Instantly, everyone within earshot were looking at the boy, who was sporting a nasty sneer. For a moment, I had to resist rolling my eyes up to glare at the sky. _Really, Death? Nott? Don't you fucking dare do what I think you're going to._ Sadly, it seemed, the aggravating deity wasn't in the office, as Nott continued to speak. "You shouldn't be here. You're nothing but a dirty Mudblood-"

 _Thunk_.

"Your mother must _very_ disappointed, Nott, to know she raised a child so _ignorant_ of common courtesy. The _proper_ term, since you appear to be unaware, is muggleborn." All the eyes at Slytherin table, including the higher years and even a few from the nearby Ravenclaw table, were staring at me… or rather, at the fork I had embedded in the wooden table, right between Nott's splayed fingers. The boy himself, who had suddenly gone pale at the act, tried to match my glare, but was soon reduced to sputtering.

"W-what do you think you're doing, Malfoy? You can't just threaten me like that!" Conscious of our observers, i allowed a very slow, predatory smile stretch my lips, relishing in the scent of fear as Nott tried desperately to keep from soiling his drawers. _Time to keep my promise to the Hat._

"I'm a Malfoy, Nott. I can, and will, do whatever I please. Unless, of course," With a smooth and well practiced movement, i flicked my wand out of its wrist holster and held it low to the table, obscuring the piece of wood from the sight of the staff, even as I pointed it directly at the brat who had dared to insult my friends. "You'd like to settle this in a more… _formal_ manner." Then, just as the boy's rage and fear were at their peak and mixing in a dangerous cocktail that might just have given him the audacity to challenge me, I released a tightly controlled burst of magic to bring it crashing down. Lucky that I was careful, too, because the burst was a lot stronger than I had expected. If I hadn't been carefully moderating it, i may have just upended the entirety of Slytherin's tableware, rather than the small but noticeable tremor i actually produced.

"...Fine, whatever. I never took you for a blood-traitor Malfoy." I smirked at the pathetic attempt to insult me. Try as he might, Nott couldn't hide the slight shaking in his voice, even if his pureblood training kept him from showing any other signs of defeat.

"And i never took you for a coward, Nott, but it appears we shall both suffer disappointment tonight." In an obvious sign of dismissal, I turned away from the boy to return to my meal. A moment later, however, I was distracted once again by a slight tapping on my arm.

"Um, thank you for defending me, Artemis, even if you don't think I should be here either. It was...nice of you." Setting down my fork, since I obviously wasn't going to be getting a decent meal tonight, I released a heavy sigh, before turning to Hermione with an apologetic expression.

"Look, Hermione, it's not that I don't think you _should_ be in Slytherin. I just wasn't aware the you _could_ be, that's all. I'm sorry if I insulted you, and that goes for you as well, Harry." My heart nearly melted at the sight of Hermione's face suddenly becoming grateful, but Harry just waved the apology away, a brilliant grin once again gracing his face.

"Don't worry about it, i know it's just part of your charm. You're a weird one, Artemis, but then so am I, and Hermione too for that matter. We're probably the only ones who can handle you anyways. Why do you think I want us to be friends?" Smiling, i nodded at him,l even as inside I turned warm and fuzzy. _He wanted to be friends?_

"Exactly right. And that's why there's no need to thank me, Hermione. Friends look out for each other, right?" The girl didn't look so sure of that, but after a moment of biting her lip, she nodded, and I broke out into a full-fledged smile. "Well, then, now that that's settled. Who want's to hear my idea for a prank?"

XXX

 **Alright, and there that one is as well. I know, I should probably be working on my other stories, but right now this is the only one I can get to work for me, so sorry for that. Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and don't forget to review! See ya!**


	4. The Sound of Screams in the Morning

Have I ever mentioned how much i love the sound of screams in the morning? Well, i do, especially when said screams are being issued from the throats of bigoted idiots trying far too hard to emulate my childhood-by that i mean my first life-self. With a well-rested, satisfied grin, i sat up in my bed and stretched slowly. Hogwarts beds were the best in the world, in my humble opinion, and what could be better than waking up to worthless plebeians getting their just desserts? Never again would i doubt the lung capacity of an eleven year old boy if their cries of outrage could reach the girl's dorm from their own.

Hopping off my bed after pushing aside the emerald green curtains, I quickly set about getting ready for the day. It had amazed me at first, those first few years as a girl, just how much effort I was expected to put into my appearance, but at least i now knew why they always needed to take _hours_ , just to get ready for the day. Thank Merlin and Morgana I still retained my fashion sensibilities from when I was a male, and could easily settle for a minimalist style that turned what would likely be an all-morning process into one that took only slightly longer than before i was reincarnated.

Despite my ease at getting ready for the day, i still suffered a nasty near-heart attack when I saw Hermione in one of the green four-poster beds, her ridiculous mane of hair mussed up in an unfairly cute manner. It took me several moments to calm myself, remembering that not only was i no longer in the boy's dorm and would have to deal with being in a room full of girls, but Hermione actually _did_ belong here, ever since the world had decided to lose all semblance of sanity and put her and Harry _bloody_ Potter in Slytherin.

 _Oh merlin, Harry!_ Suddenly, i was very glad that the other girls in the room were still asleep, as my face drained of all color at the thought that i would have to deal with a Slytherin Boy-Who-Lived. Thankfully, it seemed my brain had already sorted out the confusion and worry the previous night, much in the same manner i had worked through my surprise at being turned into a girl, albeit with less explosions and setting things on fire. Visibly at least. With a few calming breaths, I was back to my preparations, and by the time i headed up to the Slytherin common room, taking the stairs which placed our dorm even further underground, i was ready to face the light of day and all the wackiness of my new life.

 _Shiiiiiiit, I'm not ready to deal with this_. It took all of my self-control, developed over two lifetimes, in order to keep my face carefully neutral as i came upon a scene of utter chaos the likes of which should never have been seen in the highly sophisticated Slytherin common room. Only a few short glances from side to side told me what I needed to know, and a slow smirk started to slip past my control.

Several of the older hogwarts students, more used to the timeclock that classes had forced them to adapt over the years, were watching with silent amusement what appeared to be the entirety of the first year boys bickered and argued in the middle of the room, and even Crabbe and Goyle were wrestling with each other, anger clear on their faces. Only one was conspicuously absent, and I didn't blame him. If they thought Harry was responsible for their current state, he wouldn't be the Boy-Who-Lived for much longer. After all, turning each of their hair into varying neon colors was perhaps a bit too much of a blow to the pride for most eleven-year-olds to handle tactfully.

"Well, I see you boys have decided to celebrate our first day of classes in a rather… _unique_ manner." it was a fight not to burst out laughing as Nott, sporting a very fetching orange head of hair turned towards me, his face drawn tight in anger, but i managed, if only just.

"You! You had something to do with this, didn't you, Malfoy!?" the boy screamed, and i smirked inwardly. Much as i had anticipated this little prank being highly damaging to the brat's reputation, this was almost too easy. I hardly had to do anything at all to destroy him, and it was barely the first day of classes. Death must be having a fine time laughing his ass off, wherever the fuck he was.

"Why, how dare you accuse me of such things, Nott? However could i have had something to do with this? After all, I've been in the girl's dorm all this time." I replied with a coy smile, batting my eyelashes prettily at the boy and my voice dripping with sweetness. He glared at me some more, but it wasn't very threatening, and i allowed my eyes to wander over to where Crabbe and Goyle had stopped trying to strangle each other and seemed to be paying attention to the conversation, their matching lime green hair shining in the dim light. Huh, they'd never done that before. Maybe in this life they had a bit of intelligence to them. Behind them, Blaise Zabini seemed to be the only of the four who showed even the slightest bit of nobility normally expected of Slytherins, trying to look regal with his bright pink hair color, and actually coming somewhat close. With my short catologue done i turned my attention back to Nott, where he was ranting about something or other I didn't particularly care to bother with.

"Yes, well, as lovely as it was to speak with you, I really must be going. Breakfast awaits." i cut him off, a caustic smile twisting my lips. I'd already made my dislike for him known, and most of the House likely knew that i was behind the prank, but as long as they couldn't prove a thing, which i was almost completely certain was the case, I was off scot free. Hell, i'd probably be praised for the act, discreetly of course. So, with a pleasant heat satisfaction rising in me at the sight of seeing him stare at me with confusion written clear across his face, I turned on my heel away from him and made my way to the exit.

XXX

Breakfast in the Great Hall was a relatively simple affair, once I had gotten past the unnerving sight of the messy-haired boy with robes that matched his emerald green eyes, and pleasantly familiar. True, it had technically been eleven years since I had been to Hogwarts, almost twelve if you counted the time I spent in Azkaban, but somehow the intervening time felt almost as if it had never occurred in the first place, aside from the trip to Diagon Alley and the previous day. Really, I had spent most of my second life so far just… waiting to go back to Hogwarts. It was kind of sad, now that I think about it.

My pathetic dependence on the school aside though, I somehow made it through breakfast without my head exploding as I watched Professor Snape stare down his nose at Harry and Hermione while giving them their schedules. Of course, I also discreetly checked to make sure he hadn't put any harmful charms or curses on them, considering one was a muggleborn, which I'm fairly certain the man hated despite ultimately being on Dumbledore's side during the war, and the other looked almost exactly like his worst enemy and love rival, or so I had heard. It's amazing, really, how much prisoners can gossip when they're not surrounded by soul-sucking creatures meant to keep them docile. I'm pretty sure that's why the Ministry would have gladly put the Dementors back on guarding Azkaban if they hadn't scattered after Voldemort's defeat.

Eventually, me, Harry, and Hermione had all finished our breakfast, and were on our way to McGonagall's first Transfiguration class with the rest of the first years. Honestly, I don't know how Potter, as I had started to call the Gryffindor Harry, and Weasley had managed to get lost to that class. Since all the first years regardless of house shared Transfiguration periods, along with Charms and DADA, they could have just followed the crowd. At least that way, if they were late, they couldn't be punished for it, since _everyone_ would have been in the same boat.

The class, of course, was quite simple. I could turn a match into a needle in my sleep, and I easily earned twenty points to Slytherin doing almost exactly that. A short wave of my wand, while muttering the incantation so no one grew suspicious about why I was capable of silent magic, and I had a sharp, shiny sewing implement. Too bad it earned me an annoyed glance from Hermione, who while making great progress for someone her age, was still having a bit of difficulty. Plus, she only earned five points for managing to make the match pointy, with a bit of silveriness.

"I mean, _how_ did you do it? It was incredibly difficult, but you didn't seem to be trying at all! And don't try to tell me it's because you were raised in the Wizarding World. None of the other purebloods were _nearly_ as good as you." I snorted at Hermione's nitpicking, glancing towards the girl out of the corner of my eye. Merlin, she really could be determined. I see now why she ended up in Gryffindor rather than Ravenclaw, the first time around. Even they wouldn't have the patience to deal with her. Still, I couldn't find it in myself to be annoyed. Somehow, it was actually endearing, and the thought that I was able to suffer through it because we were _friends?_ Like really, honest to Merlin's knotted beard, friends? I was actually starting to feel warm and fuzzy inside.

"Would you believe me if I said it was natural talent?" I finally broke in, the novelty starting to wear a bit thin as we were already approaching our next class. The bushy-haired witch narrowed her eyes at me, probably wondering if I was mocking her, before turning away with a loud _harrumph._

"Whatever, i can see you're not going to tell me. And don't think I've forgotten that comment about Death, either. Just wait until we're in the Common Room. I'll get you to spill yet." With that dire warning, Hermione stalked away from us, and I shot a bewildered look towards Harry. Sadly, it seemed he would be no help, as the young celebrity looked just as confused as I was. _Girls,_ I thought, not caring that i technically fit into that category as well.

True to her word, as soon as we had completed our classes for the day and returned to the subterranean Slytherin Common Room, Hermione started badgering me yet again. To be honest, it was perhaps a bit my fault, as I hadn't bothered to hold back in any of my other classes either. I doubted it would fool her anyways, as sharp as the little bookworm was. Regardless, she somehow managed to question me as we worked on our homework, performing an impressive feat of multitasking I would have thought impossible if it weren't for long experience with the phenomenon that was Granger. I, for my part, wasn't even bothering really, instead watching with barely disguised glee as the Slytherin boys tried various methods of reverting their hair-colors back to normal. I didn't know where or how Harry had procured the potions responsible, but they must have been horrendously overpowered to have lasted all day with only the barest hint of fading. The boy himself was in the middle of it all, grinning widely as he dumped various magical solutions over his dorm-mates heads. Honestly, one day, and he had already turned the normally calm and proper Snake's Pit into a madhouse. I was surprised Snape hadn't stormed in to scold them all.

"-Either Time Travel, which is completely ridiculous, or you are a freak of nature in that your core is far more developed than ours- Ah, Artemis, are you even listening?" I jumped in surprise at my name, accidentally bumping over a pot of ink, which spread very quickly to smear all over the bottom half of Hermione's essay she was currently working on-why in the name of all that was holy and magical we had essays on the first day of school, I would never know. Without thinking, I slid my wand from its holster and waved it over the page, vanishing the ink while retaining her current work. Just as i was about to slide the wand away, however, my hand was caught by Hermione.

"See, that's exactly what I'm talking about! How did you do that?" i stared at the girl in shock, but she just returned the look with a level gaze, and suddenly her previous words filtered back to me. _Oh, shit._

"Did you say _Time travel?_ " i asked, my voice incredulous. Okay, obviously she didn't believe it, had said so herself in fact, but how on earth did she ever come to that conclusion. Curiously, instead of responding with a clearly-worded and completely logical response, she actually bit her lip and looked away, muttering something under her breath. "I apologize, I didn't hear that."

"I said it's from fanfiction, alright!?" I flinched at the sudden change in pitch, before staring at the bushy-haired witch in front of me. What the fuck was she going on about now?

"Excuse me?" I asked, my voice laced with confusion. With a last aggravated glare, Hermione let out a huff, before sitting back down.

"It's a muggle thing, Artemis. Fans of certain fictional works will sometimes create their own versions of the story, for a multitude of reasons. One of the biggest types of fanfiction is where a character somehow goes back in time with all their knowledge and skills to fix things that may or may not have gone wrong. I wasn't serious," She defended suddenly, seeing my disbelieving stare. "I know it's not possible that you _actually_ went back in time. That would be ludicrous. I just had to consider all the options, and so far the only other one that sounds even remotely possible is that your magical core has developed far beyond what an eleven year old is supposed to have done. It wouldn't be so easy for you to control your magic otherwise, regardless of how much you may know." As the words of her lecture bounced through my brain, a thought occured to me, and I narrowed my eyes at the girl.

"You seem to know a lot about magical cores, one of the most advanced subjects of magic, for a muggleborn, not to mention first year." Hermione blushed suddenly, abashed at my accusation.

"I… may have picked up a few more 'advanced' books at the bookstore during my trip to Diagon Alley for school supplies. I already know the textbooks by heart anyways." Yep, that made sense. I smirked at the girl, which elicited even more blushing. Before I could say anything else, however, Harry suddenly plopped down beside us, and I stared at his hair. Somehow, it was now seperated into strips of colors, each of which were shifting every few seconds, and the boy had a _very_ self-satisfied smirk across his face ashe toyed with one of his bangs, currently bouncingbetween grey and blue.

"And what are you lovely ladies talking about?" He asked, and I rolled my eyes as his smirk turned to a full blown grin.

"How I'm a Time-traveler, of course."

"Oh? How did that happen?" I tossed a glance towards Hermione, and she blushed even more.

"Well, Hermione here decided I have to have an overdeveloped core, and-"

"No, no that" He cut me off, and I tilted my head in questioning. "I mean, how did you time-travel?" For a moment, I stared at the boy, unsure of whether he was just screwing with my head or not. Then, I decided to play along. It might even feel good, telling someone, regardless of whether they actually believe me or not. At least then if they ever found out- and I'm certain Hermione at least would- then I can always claim I told them the truth.

"Well, I was shoved through the Veil of Death, an artifact hidden in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic. But since Death has a horrible sense of humor, he decided to reincarnate me and force me to live my life all over again. I'm not even a girl, actually. My first life I was born as a boy, and was named Draco." Harry's eyes sparkled,even as Hermione _Harrumphed,_ And he leaned back in his seat casually.

"Draco Malfoy," He said, testing the word on his tongue. "Sounds like a right prat kind of name, to me." I smiled.

"I definitely lived up to it, then. Trust me, you would not want to meet my original eleven year old self." Harry laughed,and suddenly there was a loud _thud_ as Hermione slammed her book down on the table.

"Alright, that's enough. You don't have to make fun of me." I turnedtolook at her brightred face, flushed in fury, and sighed. My face turned serious, and I looked her straight in the eye, not wanting her to believe I was making fun of her.

"I'm not making fun of you Hermione."

"Yes you are!" She practically screamed, and I winced as my ears rang. "Just because I brought up the _possibility_ of time travel, although that's a ridiculous notion anyways, You two are laughing at me about it." Once again I sighed, before standing up and walking the few steps around the table until I wasright next to Hermione, who had stood as well and looked to be about to run away. Desperate, I grabbed the bushy-haired witch's hands and pulled her around until we were face to face, so close our breath was mingling.

"Hermione, look me in the eye and tell me if I'm lying." She did, and when I was certain that there could be no hint of doubt to be seen, I spoke, the truest words I had said in my entire second life, my voice a bare whisper on the still air. "I am a time traveler." With a small gasp, Hermione let go of my hands and fell back into her chair, grasping at her heart.

"You're serious."

"Of course I am. I've always been a lousy liar."She stared at me, and I could see a thousand thoughts running through her head. Granger always had been so very intelligent, it didn't surprise me that she would be able to see the truth. I knew it was only a matter of time until she accepted it.

"But-but… _how?_ " With a sigh, this time pleasant, I smiled, sitting in the nearest free chair.

"Exactly as I just said. Trust me, I have no clue how it works either."

"Well it is magic." Both me and Hermione jumped at the sudden voice, our heads snapping to look at Harry. Dear Merlin, I had forgotten he was there in the extraordinarily tense moment. "I mean, really. It can do practically anything, can't it? At least, if used right." I gaped at the boy, who was beaming at the both of us.

"You knew?" I asked, my voice shaky with disbelief. How the fuck was he not in a similar state as Hermione?

"Of course, it wasn't very hard to tell."

"Why not?"

"Well, the most obvious thing was how you acted at the Sorting Ceremony. It was like you knew exactly how it was supposed to turn out, and when it didn't you couldn't believe it. Then there's the way you act like you know us really well, despite only being our friend for a day or two, and yet you act really surprised when we do certain things, like Hermione suggesting how we dealt with Weasley. You also act a lot more mature than most people our age, know a lot more about magic that you couldn't even if you are a pureblood. The real clincher though? You know exactly where to go in the castle, as if you've lived here for years. Not even purebloods can do that." I stared at Harry, shocked by all the evidence he had presented. Never before had Potter been so observant, that I could tell at least. Had I really affected so much, or was it just him being in Slytherin which made him act more intelligent? Even Hermione looked surprised, gaping at the raven-haired boy in disbelief.

"Well, fuck me."

XXX

 **Alright, so that's that chapter done, and I am just on a roll today! Yeah, this chapter did not go in the way I expected, whatsoever. I was planning for there to be a few jokes, Artemis screwing with Hermione's head a bit, but then BAM! Harry decides to walk over and fuck it all up. Now if you have complaints, like that Artemis told Harry and Hermione far too early, remember this. I am writing this story with a very specific rule, in order to keep it as casual and stress-free as possible; If it comes off my keyboard, it stays. Trust me, I didn't plan this, since I don't plan anything for this story except what the next chapter starts off with, but it's staying as it is, and that's that.**

 **Anyways, I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to Review! See ya!**


	5. Exploding Cauldrons are Not Fun

Have you ever had that feeling that maybe you made a big cosmic mistake somewhere, and you should probably go back in time to fix it? And then, you realize that wait, 'I already did'. In fact, the whole mess you are currently in is the direct result of you not only breaking pretty much every bloody rule in the universe by traveling back in time, but then breaking every rule of _that_ particular experience by telling your friends that you're not actually from their time, and are in fact an eighteen-and-or-twenty nine year old here to save them all from a horrible demise by masquerading as an eleven year old student. Now add in the fact that not only has your extra-chronotic presence broken pretty much the base foundations of the universe's state of being, but also essentially ruined a lifelong friendship that pretty much defined the war you are here to stop, and the eventual victory in said war. Then you realize that all this shit is literally too much to handle and why the fuck am I being so philosophical about this shit in the first place? Oh, right, because even that mind-numbing practice would be better than listening to Harry Potter's constant naggings about the future.

"For the last time, Potter, I _do not know_!" The entire Great Hall-which pretty much consisted of the few people insane enough to actually get up on time for breakfast, and me-turned to look at the spot at Slytherin table where I had just slammed my Potions textbook down and was now glaring at the grinning Boy-Who-Lived.

"Come on Artemis, you've gotta know _something._ You fought in the war, for crying out loud!" Anger rolling through me, I leaned over the table, coming just close enough to hiss in the smug little bastard's face.

"On the wrong side, dumbass! And for the last time, keep your voice down! The last thing I need is for old grumpy goats over there to hear you and decide to dissect me!" Aggravatingly, Harry seemed unaffected by my-if I may say so myself-excellent explanation, and simply leaned back in his chair, even as he reached for a knife to butter his scones with.

"What would Dumbledore want with such a useless source of information?" He asked sardonically, and I ignored the nearby giggles as my glare intensified even more. Bloody peons probably thought this was some sort of lover's spat. I swear, if I ever found out how that stupid rumor that I was in love with Harry bloody Potter got spread, heads were going to roll.

"Well, I'm _sorry,_ Harry. It's not like I was friends with Potter in the first place. All I ever heard up to fifth year was rumours of his stupid heroic exploits. For all I know, you sat in the common room all the time, sipping tea and bumping uglies with the Weasel." Harry grimaced at that, but before he could say anything, Hermione slid into the seat next to him, her adorable little eleven-year-old nose wrinkled up in disgust.

"Really, Artemis, must you be so vulgar? I understand you're much older than you look, but still. That is no excuse to not show at least some form of decorum. Now, what is it that Harry's got you so worked up about this time?" Growling, I turned my glare on the bushy-haired girl, but she met my eyes unyieldingly, and I was forced to sit back with an explosive sigh. Sometimes I missed being enemies with the bloody walking library. At least then she would blush and look away when I glared at her.

"This ignoramus was asking who he ended up with, and was being _far_ too loud about it. Honestly, chances are whatever knowledge I may have will be useless anyways. I've already changed far too much." As I finished speaking, I huffed and reached for a plate of fried eggs, trying to ignore my two friends as they glanced at each other. Finally, it seemed their silent conversation was over, and with a small smile, Hermione reached over and touched my arm lightly.

"You may be right, Artemis, but it's all we have. Besides, perhaps talking about… that place, will help you work through whatever problems you may have. I know you've been beating yourself up for days now." Shocked by her words and actions, I released the fork in my hands, allowing it to clatter back down onto my plate as I sent a weak glare at her. I didn't _want_ to talk about it. That was the problem.

"Hermione, I get what you're trying to say, and I'm thankful for it, but you don't understand what it was like. That place… even in first year, I wasn't happy." I looked at the young witch, trying as hard as I could to express the pain I felt as the memories of my original lifetime washed through me. I was speaking the truth, too. Even as a child, right at the start of a Hogwarts career which should have been bright and promising, my life had been anything but. Raised by a cold father, a distant mother, surrounded by the lies and hypocrisy of Pureblood bigotry and shunned by the one person who might have seen me as an actual friend rather than simply an ally, It was a dark year. To compensate, I turned to the cruel, needless hatred that had defined the rest of my first-life, and led me down the path to my imprisonment and subsequent execution. Even that was pitiful, as my death lacked pretty much any and all of the grace and pride it should have possessed.

"Artemis." My name on Harry's lips was a quiet thing, and caught up as I was in remembrance, I barely noticed until two arms slid around me in a tight, loving embrace. Shocked, I tore myself away from my memories, only to find that Harry and Hermione had somehow traversed the table and were now on either side of me, squeezing tightly.

"Um, guys?" I asked, completely stiff. What the fuck was going on now? Roused by my voice, both my fellow Slytherin's looked up to me, smiling gently. After a moment, Harry spoke.

"Don't worry, Artemis. We'll make sure that things are better this time around. That's why I've been asking you so many questions. Every little bit counts, and even the smallest of details can help us." I stared at his leaf green eyes, shining brightly with promise as he spoke, and a sudden surge of gratefulness crashed through me. Dear Merlin, how could they be so kind? I truly didn't deserve them as friends, either of them. Both Harry and Hermione were just so… selfless. Being with them was like wrapping a warm blanket around myself on a cold night. It just felt so… comfortable.

"Thanks guys," I said, as they both withdrew slowly, careful to sit still so they could safely untangle all their limbs. Once they were both back in their original seats, I smiled softly, tapping my chin with the fork in my hand. "So, you wanted to know about Partners, huh? Well, I was in jail pretty much the whole time after the war ended, but prisoners really are horrible gossips. There were quite a few rumors about a you two and a certain clan of red-haired Weasels…" As I regaled my friends with tales about their possible future love lives, I allowed my mind to wander a bit, smiling at the thoughts that it encompassed. It was good to be back.

XXX

Okay, first rule of time travel: Never, _ever_ leave Harry-fucking-Potter unattended in Potions class. In fact, never go anywhere near said Potions class with said person, regardless of whether he is supervised or not. The lion-in-snake's-clothing is an absolute menace with a cauldron. Also, if you don't want him to corrupt nice, innocent little Gryffindors with his wicked, wicked ways… well, perhaps it would have been better just to lock the green-eyed monster in a broom closet on that fateful first Friday of the year. Then again, he probably would've found some way to pick the lock and still shown up in time for roll-call _and_ to fuck up what was left of my ever-dwindling supply of sanity.

Okay, okay, you're probably all wondering what the hell I'm going on about this time, right?. Well, it started off pretty simply. The Slytherins and Gryffindors both converged on the dungeon where Professor Snape held his Potions classes on the first Friday of the year, just as I remembered it being. The first few minutes passed in essentially the same manner, all the way until the great bat of a man-yes, even I must admit he is a tad overdramatic at times- reached Harry's name on the list.

"Ah, Potter. If it isn't our newest… celebrity." Luckily, Snape's attention was focused almost solely on the green-eyed boy to my right, so he didn't notice me rolling my eyes at the ridiculous comment. "Tell me, Potter, what would I get if I combined root of asphodel with an infusion of wormwood?" I raised my eyebrows at the question, but noticing the glint in Harry's eyes, held my tongue. Okay, so I remembered the whole 'interrogate Potter' deal, but I hadn't quite recalled what questions Snape had asked, and perhaps unsurprisingly, that one was sixth-year level. There was no way Harry could possibly know the answer. Having seen the changes in the boy over the last week, however, i had no doubt that his answers wouldn't be nearly as dull as the first time I sat through this conversation.

"A potion, I would assume. Unless I accidentally walked into Charms class, Professor?" Harry asked with a smirk, and my lips quirked. Okay, it probably wasn't the best quip in the world, but for an eleven year old it was pretty decent. Even more amusingly, Snape didn't even respond to the question, simply narrowing his eyes before making a _tut, tut_ sound.

"Didn't think to open a book before you got to school, Potter? I see fame isn't everything." I practically groaned at the overly dramatic words. Honestly, what was he thinking acting like that? Okay, I understand that he hates Potter's guts, mainly because of some sort of stupid rivalry he had going on with the kid's dad, but fucking seriously? That has got to be the single most un-Slytherin like comment I have ever heard, and I live with fucking Lucius Malfoy. Harry, however, didn't seem to notice, and smiled slyly up at the man.

"Of course not Professor. That's why we are here, isn't it. To learn?" I winced at the accusing tone in my friend's voice, and even Snape seemed a bit taken aback by his scathing response. Granted, most of the Gryffindors probably had no clue what was happening, but most of Slytherin house were shooting uneasy glances at each other now. I assume they were probably wondering why their Head of House was picking on one of his own students, and Snape seemed to realise it too. With a curl of his lips, he turned away from Harry, and I let out a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding. At least something was still sane. Professor Snape almost _never_ focused on Slytherins.

"Alright there, Harry?" I asked in a low whisper, leaning over to the boy while Snape started his little first-year speech. Harry shot me a grin in response.

"Of course, Artemis. Nothing wrong at all." A sudden sense of unease swept through me at his words, and my eyes narrowed. His grin had a slightly feral hint to it, and I was suddenly unsure of what exactly he was planning. And I knew he was planning something, could see the vicious prankster's brain working overtime behind those beautiful green eyes. Yes, Harry was up to something, and for a moment, I considered stopping him. Then I glanced back to Snape, who was sneering down at a large Gryffindor boy, and for some reason, I pushed the thought to the side. Fuck it, the man deserved whatever was coming to him. I suffered his horrible teaching style for seven years, and knew just how atrocious of an authority figure he was, despite the fact that he was technically my godfather. Oh, how I regret that decision now.

Do you know how hard it is to mess up a potion to cure boils? It's really not. I mean honestly, there's like five ingredients in the whole damn thing, and maybe ten instructions total. There's a reason it's the first potion we ever learn at Hogwarts. I remembered vividly, however, that someone had, in fact, screwed it up on their first try, and since I didn't particularly feel like testing the fragile balance of the universe by seeing if Snape would still take points off Harry for Neville Longbottom's fuckup, I decided to make a preemptive strike. Ignoring the various dirty glares I received from the other red-robed children, as soon as Snape was done with his monologue on the safety measures of the classroom, I stood and calmly made my way over to the young lion.

"Hey Longbottom, do you want to partner up? You look a bit lost." I asked once I got to his seat, trying to use my kindest voice. The poor child really did look lost, too, glancing around the classroom nervously as he looked for a partner. Since it was the first potion and all, Snape had informed us that it was a two-man-or woman-job. Still, Longbottom somehow managed to looked surprised at my request as he turned to look at me.

"Malfoy? Are you sure?" He asked in a wavering voice, and my brow furrowed as I inspected him. He had a sort of tentatively hopeful look on his face, but I could see the fear present in his quavering lips, and the way his eyes kept shifting to the side, carefully avoiding meeting mine.

"Of course, Longbottom. I don't ask inane questions. I'm decent at Potions, or so my tutors tell me, and I thought since you looked unsure I would help you out." Well, it may not have been my _main_ motivation, but it was still true. Regardless, the brunette finally met my eyes, looking at me with confusion written large across his face.

"But you're a Slytherin." Raising an eyebrow, I scoffed at that. Really, I thought he'd be better than that.

"And you're a wee little lion cub. What of it? I won't bite, if that's what you're afraid of." Surprisingly, the kid actually smiled at my terrible joke, and I let out an internal sigh of relief. Already, people were starting to look at us, and I wanted to get this over with so that they would be too distracted by their potions to pay attention to the novel sight of a Slytherin and Gryffindor working together. Finally, the kid gave me a slight nod.

"Alright then. Let me get my stuff." I grinned at the answer. _Finally._ A few moments later, we were both back at the workstation where I had left Harry and Hermione, and I frowned as they both gave me an odd look.

"What?" I asked, not sure why they were glancing between me and Neville. Slowly, my annoyance grew, until finally hermione spoke.

"Nothing, it's just a bit… odd, that you're with Neville. I wasn't aware you two were friends." My face smoothed out as I listened to her response, and I smiled, reaching back to grab Neville from where he was cowering behind me.

"We aren't, yet. I guess I just saw some potential in him, that's all." I smiled at the pair, but both Harry and Hermione only offered me a dubious stare. Shrugging them off, i started to set up for my potion, trying to ignore them. If my friends wanted to doubt every little action I took, then fine. It wasn't like I needed their permission anyways.

Neville, as it turned out, was actually a decent potions maker, funnily enough. You never would have known it, seeing his performance through all of my previous life, but as I observed him closely while we worked on the potion, I noticed that he seemed to have a knack for it. The only real problems he seemed to have was whenever Snape came near, and his entire thought process seemed to disappear like a loud. Several times I had to stop the boy from making a horrible mistake, when just seconds previously he had been moving with confidence. But in all honesty, I could have lived with that fact. If Neville Longbottom being an actual potioneer was all I got out of that class, I would have been happy. I should have known better.

Death really hates me. I know I've said that before, but this time, I'm serious. The being takes great pleasure in fucking with my head, then laughing as my entire universe burns down around me. The saddest thing though? Apparently his favorite agent for such misfortunes is one green-eyed, black-haired, bespectacled idiot with a penchant for chaos, who also happens to be my best friend. See, class was going perfectly fine, we were making our potions, and I was thinking that for once we might escape without causing any sort of havoc at all. That was all blown away when Harry leaned over to talk to Neville.

"So, Neville, how's life in Gryffindor?" My head shot up from where I was bent over my own cauldron, and I stared at the boy in surprise and suspicion. What on earth could he possibly be up to now?

"Uh, it's okay, I guess." Responded Neville, and Harry's grin grew just a tiny bit. I was starting to get a really bad feeling about this.

"That's cool. What do you guys do in your spare time? A lot of pranks and stuff?" I froze at Harry's words, and slowly, ever so slowly, turned to face him fully, horror written clearly across my face. No, he was not…

"Not really, no. I mean, a few of the older students play tricks on each other, but most of us younger years just hang out, I guess. Except the Weasley twins in third year. They do play a lot of pranks."I let out a relieved sigh as Neville answered, but wished I hadn't a moment later, as Harry exchanged glances with Hermione, his eyes practically sparkling. As he leaned casually over the cauldrons to whisper conspiratorially in the Gryffindor's ear, my blood froze. Fucking Hell…

"Would you like to learn?" Asked Harry, and I nearly balked at his husky voice. If we were just a few years older, I might think he was trying to seduce Longbottom. As it was, the little lion cub I had unwittingly dragged into the snake's den now had wide eyes, and he looked at Harry with a mixture of fear and awe.

"Are-are you certain? I… I've never really done a prank before." At his words, Harry's grin turned into a smirk, and this time I couldn't hold back my groan. Was he seriously corrupting the ever-innocent Longbottom? And why?

"Of course, Neville. I never say something I don't mean. Now tell me, has anyone been particularly cruel to you recently?" Neville pulled back slightly, surprised by the question. He didn't speak, but the way his eyes flicked over to Nott, who was working over by the ingredients cabinet, was answer enough. And when Harry's smile stretched wider, turning _very_ smug, I knew exactly what the bastard was planning. Strangely though, i couldn't manage to drag up any more annoyance, and in fact, as my own eyes drifted over to my fellow Slytherin, laughing raucously with his partner Goyle, my mouth started to tug up into a smile of my own. The little brat did deserve it… My attention was drawn back when Harry cleared his throat, before speaking once again in that conspiratorial whisper.

"Nott, eh? Yes, I do remember seeing him knock books out of your hands the other day… Tell you what, how would you like to get back at him? Nothing harmful, don't worry. It's just a spot of humiliation." Neville looked unsure as he searched Harry's face, but slowly, the pudgy boy nodded. "Alright then. You take this, and go over to the ingredients cabinet like you're looking for something, but keep it hidden. When you pass Nott's cauldron, just bump up against it and slip that in. Then… well, I'd suggest you run like hell after that." I watched in amusement as Neville tenderly took the snake-skin Harry handed him. The boy lifted it up slightly to look dubiously at the ingredient, but with a slow nod, he made to stick it in his pocket. Before he could though, Hermione, who had been observing us with a quiet smile, shot her hand out to stop him.

"Wait, not that. Take these, instead." Carefully, she lifted the snake-skin out of Neville's hands, replacing it with a few porcupine quills instead. When both me and Harry shot her a questioning look, she smirked. "Snake-skin is a lot more volatile and could result in someone getting hurt. Besides, if the Professor tries to clean out the cauldron, he could find its husk at the bottom still. These won't leave a trace."Me, Neville, _and_ Harry all gaped at the bushy-haired witch, especially as she continued working as if she hadn't just participated in a plan to blow up the cauldron of a fellow student. Our jaws dropped even further when, without looking up from the book she was studying for instructions, she continued. "Also, wait until Professor Snape is nearby. He will be less inclined to look for a saboteur if he's caught in the mess as well, and he deserves some humiliation as well."I stared at the girl. What the fuck?

"Um, Hermione? You do realize you're talking about a _teacher,_ right?" I asked tentatively, trying not to let my beiing utterly lost slip into my voice. I could take Harry trying to corrupt Neville into becoming a little prankster like him, but Hermione talking so blaisely about harming a teacher? No, something was severely wrong here. That feeling only increased as let out an aggravated sigh and looked back up to us, brushing a lock of bushy hair out of her eyes.

"I am fully aware of that fact Artemis, yes. But him being a teacher gives him no excuse for singling Harry out like he did." She grinned then, and a wave of both fear and pride went through me at the feral sight. Her eyes glittered with a justified cruelty I didn't remember ever seeing in the girl before, and for a moment, I actually believed she might belong in Slytherin. "If we're going to cause havoc, we might as well get something out of it, yes?" For a moment, all four oif us just sat there, letting her words hang in the air as we stared at each other. In that moment, I realized something. Here I was, sitting in Potions class with Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Neville Longbottom, plotting how to blow up a Housemate's cauldron and catch Professor Snape in the blast radius. When the fuck had my life become so warped out of what I once remembered it as? Harry was a mischievous little bastard, apparently Hermione was a vindictive bitch, and now Longbottom was going to join this circus of twisted friends of mine. I could see it in his eyes already. He had been hesitant yes, but now, as we all met each other's eyes, I could see that he was fully invested in the plot. He had almost no friends in Gryffindor, I knew that for a fact, and while we were Slytherin, yes, we had still extended the hand of friendship to him. Here we were, offering him a place in our little plan, when we could just as easily been targeting him. Dear Merlin, this was going to be interesting. Finally, after several long moments, I spoke.

"Alright then. What's my part in all of this, hmm?" Startled, all three of them turned to look at me. Then, a slow grin spread over Harry's face, and he answered with a glee that was all too apparent.

"Well, Artemis, you're the distraction. All you need to do is get Snape over to the cauldron, and make sure nobody notices Neville." For a moment, I mulled that over in my mind, nodding slowly as I contemplated the thought. I suppose it was possible… especially if I pulled out some of my silent casting. Causing a ruckus couldn't be too hard, although it may cost Snape quite a bit. Finally, I nodded, and a feral grin spread over my face, the thrill of a well-made plan singing through me. Oh yeah, this was going to be fun.

XXX

"This is not fun!" I yelled, my lungs straining as I ducked under a table to dodge a flying piece of metal. My screams went unheard, however, overrun by the matching expressions of terror from the rest of the class as they, too, tried not to lose life or limb. Finally, after several minutes, the noise died down, and I glanced out carefully from behind my makeshift shield. I didn't think anyone was hurt, but I could clearly see both Nott and Snape standing in the center of the blast radius, covered in some sort of brown goop that did not look anything like what the boils potion we were making should look like. Shock written clearly on my face, I turned to Neville, Harry, and Hermione, who each wore similar expressions. Finally, there was the sound of a clearing throat, and both me and the boys turned to look at Hermione.

"I think, Neville, that I owe you an apology. Porcupine quills are _not_ less volatile than snake-skin." For a moment, we just stared at the girl, who slowly grew more and more red as she hunched into herself. Finally, I broke the silence, letting out a full-bellied laugh. Bloody hell, Hermione could be wrong. Who knew?

XXX

 **Okay, so that is done. Hello, I'm back!**

 **Alright, I know it's been a while, but honestly, I've kinda been having an erratic few months when it comes to writing, and I honestly just couldn't find motivation to write this. Even now, actually, I'm not completely happy with it, since the second part seems very lackluster, especially when it comes to Artemis's usual sass, but what the hell, I might as well put it up. It's not like I'm actually trying to be professional here, and my rule for this story is that if it came out, it stays.**

 **So as usual, feel free to state any comments, questions, and concerns you may have in a Review, and I will see you all later!(Hopefully not two months later, but hey; Life happens)**


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